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o V 



RAYMOND, NEW HAMPSHIRE 
FIFTY YEARS AGO 



AN ADDRESS AT THE "OLD HOME WEEK CELEBRATION' 
RAYMOND, N. H., AUGUST 20, 1901 



DAVID H. BROWN 

OF WEST MEDFORD, MASS. 



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CHICAGO 

THE LAKESIDE PRESS 

I 90 I 



p. 

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(Person). 

6 3;'02 






X 



RAYMOND, NEW HAMPSHIRE, FIFTY 
YEARS AGO. 

Mr. President, Ladies, and Gentlemen: It was a happy 
suggestion of Governor Rollins for the citizens of the towns 
of New Hampshire to invite the absent sons and daughters to 
revisit the old homes, so that they might renew old associa- 
tions and recall former days. It is delightful to be here to-day 
and meet old friends, some of whom I have not seen for a 
generation. I am glad to accept your generous hospitality, 
and I am sure "Old Home Week" will be remembered as 
red-letter days in the history of the town. 

It is not strange that we who have strayed away from 
the old homes should find it delightful to revisit the old 
town. We love the hills and valleys, the brooks and meadows, 
on which we first looked, and where we roamed when children. 
We enjoy climbing the same old rocks, sitting under the 
same trees, on the same grassy banks, and in the same rooms 
of the dear old houses where the happy years of childhood 
were passed. We love the good old town, its people, and 
its history. 

Mr. President, I have been invited to give some reminis- 
cences of earlier days, and I shall undertake to tell you about 
" Raymond fifty years ago," or rather fifty-five years ago, 
at the time of the Mexican War, in 1846, in my early boy- 
hood. 

James K. Polk was then President of the United States, 
Jared W. Williams was Governor of New Hampshire, Queen 
Victoria had begun her illustrious career, and had been seven 
years on the throne, Louis Philippe was King of France, and 
Nicholas, the great-grandfather of the present Nicholas, was 
the Czar of all the Russias. The population of the United 
States numbered 17,000,000. 

3 



In the New Hampshire Gazette of 1848, Raymond was 
mentioned only as a farming town, but some other industries 
might have been noted; viz., the production of thousands of 
bushels of charcoal annually, and the manufacture of barrels 
and carriages that were sent to other markets. In the forties 
there was a hand-loom in nearly every house. The women of 
the household carded and spun the wool, and wove it into 
cloth for home use and for sale. This home industry had 
come down from the time of the early days of New England. 
It was a great relief to the tired housekeepers when the yearly 
stock of wool could be exchanged at Folsom's Mill, in West 
Epping, for an equivalent in woolen cloth or flannel for 
family use. 

The manufacture of palm-leaf hats must not be overlooked. 
Nearly all the young people engaged in this work, and in this 
way added much to the family income. For an active boy 
it was monotonous and disagreeable work, but with nimble 
fingers he could do his regular stint, and get some time for 
play. Later, in the early fifties, came shoe-binding for women 
and girls, and shoemaking for young men and boys. At that 
time, and for several years afterwards, there was a shoe-shop 
connected with nearly every house. Messrs. J. & S. Blake 
became shoe manufacturers, as did the Dudleys of Candia 
village. Haverhill took the lead in this industry. Shoe 
stock, with soles cut out by pattern, was sent to the shoe- 
makers at their homes. Freighters made a business of taking 
the stock from the manufacturers at Haverhill, and returning 
the shoes. They brought the money to the shoemakers with 
a new lot of stock. All the shoes were then made by hand, as 
machinery for making shoes had not been invented. Nearly 
all the shoes were pegged, and were without heels. Some of 
the boys learned to make shoes so as to earn money to pay 
expenses when attending school out of town at the academy. 

In the forties farming was the principal occupation, and 
it was done in the old-fashioned way. The seed was sowed 
or planted by hand. Then it was "the man and the hoe." 
The grass was cut with the scythe, and not with the mow- 
ing-machine. The men made long days, in the busy sea- 

4 



son beginning as soon as it was fairly light, and working 
as long as they could see. The work of the women was 
even more taxing than that of the men. Their work was 
never done. Was it strange that some of them gave up the 
struggle early? The boys did their part, dropping the corn, 
potatoes, and other seeds. They assisted in the hoeing, 
spread the hay, helped in raking, loaded the hay, or raked 
after the load, and stowed it away when it was being un- 
loaded into the big mow or on the stuffy, heated scaffolds. 
They joined the reapers, and cut not only the tall, waving 
grain, but their own hands and legs with the sickle in try- 
ing to learn the business. They picked apples, cut stalks, 
helped husk the corn, and shelled it in the winter; picked 
up the stones in the fields, to be removed in carts; picked 
up potatoes after they were dug, drove the cows to pasture, 
and turned the grindstone. Sometimes they escaped the 
latter work in a unique way. There were tramps in those 
days, and the prince of hobos was Peter Varnum, a tall, 
stately, ragged specimen. He was too lazy to work, and 
wandered from town to town, sleeping in barns, and beg- 
ging his food from house to house. Once in a while, after 
he had been given a breakfast, he was asked to turn the 
grindstone to grind a scythe. He did not like to refuse, 
but was careful afterwards to give such a place a wide berth, 
or hurry by as fast as he could go. Pete was a good- 
natured fellow, and of very respectable connections. It was 
said he had been a soldier in the war of 1812, and after- 
wards preferred to be a traveler instead of settling down. 

Horses were not much used in farm work, but oxen were 
employed for plowing, drawing in hay, and for teaming gen- 
erally. There were nearly one hundred yoke of oxen owned 
in town, and about as many yoke of steers being broken 
to work. Sometimes in winter, after a big storm, when the 
snow was deep and badly drifted, it was not uncommon 
to see ten or fifteen yoke of oxen attached to a big sled 
accompanied by several drivers and by men with shovels, 
breaking out the roads. It can readily be seen that it could 
not have been difficult to get together one hundred yoke 

5 



of oxen to move the town-meeting house from its original 
location at the geographical centre of the town, near Mr. Ho- 
ratio Page's, to its present location at the Centre. Now I am 
told there are not a dozen yoke of cattle owned in town, 
horses having taken their places to a great extent. 

It was not strange that out-of-door life and an abun- 
dance of work promoted health. In case of slight illness, 
our mothers and grandmothers knew the virtues of thorough- 
wort, catnip, sage, and other remedies supplied by nature. 
When severe sickness came, Dr. Stephen Gale, the only phy- 
sician in town, was called. He was an excellent type of the 
old-time doctor. He was a scholarly, able man, thoroughly 
devoted to his profession, and is remembered as " the good 
physician." He drove in a gig, and carried saddle-bags 
containing his medicines, as was the custom of doctors then. 
Perhaps he administered too much calomel to his patients, 
and made too free a use of the lancet, but his death was 
regarded as a public misfortune. 

There were two churches, the Congregational and Free- 
will Baptist. Dr. John C. Page was the Congregational 
minister. He was educated as a physician, but felt called 
to be a preacher, and studied at Gilmanton Theological 
SemJnary, and was settled in Raymond in 1841, remain- 
ing until 1851. He was a man of ability, enthusiastic in 
his work, of commanding presence, of genial and courtly 
manners, and interested in everything tending to promote 
the spiritual, moral, intellectual, and social development 
of his people and the town. With his old-fashioned cler- 
ical cloak he was a welcome visitor in every home. After 
the lamented death of Dr. Gale, in 1846, he served as phy- 
sician until the arrival of Dr. Frye, a few months later. 

Dr. Page's pastorate of ten years has only been surpassed 
in length of service by that of the present pastor, the Rev. 
Albert H. Thompson, who, as the secretary of the Old Home 
Week Association, has done so much to promote the success 
of these meetings, and who took the leading part in the 
arrangements for the church centennial of ten years ago, 
and in securing the money to build the new and beautiful 

6 



house for public worship to replace the old house destroyed 
by fire December 6, 1892. 

Rev. Tobias Foss was the earliest Freewill Baptist min- 
ister I can remember. He was an intelligent, sincere man, 
and taught our district school one winter, in addition to his 
pastoral work. He was succeeded by the Rev. Joseph Ful- 
lonton, a native of the town, who was highly esteemed by 
his own people and by the entire town. Though of excellent 
natural endowments, scholarly attainments, and wide reading, 
Mr. Fullonton was very modest and retiring in his disposition, 
and because he lacked a college education he had a low 
estimate of himself and anything he undertook to do. It 
is but scant justice to say that his history of Raymond is one 
of the best town histories ever published, and that he has 
placed his native town under perpetual obligations. 

Among the deacons of the Congregational Church was 
Deacon Daniel N. Lane, who filled that honored position 
for more than forty years in a very 'efficient manner, and 
also many places of responsibility in town affairs. He was 
a ready and effective speaker, and a very useful citizen. 
Deacon Daniel Tilton was a venerable, saintly man, who 
walked to meeting Sunday morning with his Bible under 
his arm, like one of the prophets of old. He had so strong 
a sense of his own unworthiness that in the prayer meet- 
ings he habitually called himself the greatest of sinners. 
Too much introspection had made him morbid. Alas! what 
would he have said if his associates had uttered Amen to his 
oft-repeated ejaculations! 

Among the pillars of the Baptist Church was Deacon Amos 
Batchelder. He was a prudent, sagacious man of the world, 
and a devoted, earnest Christian. He did much to promote 
neighborhood religious meetings, and he seemed to enjoy 
greatly the traveling revivalists of those days, who generally 
had strong lungs. Of such a person he was accustomed to 
say, " He has the power." A favorite expression of his was, 
" He that is wise is wise for himself." He was fervent in 
exhortation and in prayer, and urged all to get aboard the 
ark of safety as it passed by. Perhaps that was the reason the 

7 



big carryall in which he drove to meeting Sundays was called 
by the boys " the ark." 

The Methodist Church was organized in 1848, and the 
Sunday services were held, at first, in the old town-meeting 
house. The Rev. J. S. Loveland was the first minister. He 
was followed by the Rev. James Adams in 1849, ^^^ ^ house 
for public worship was built during that year. 

As most of the people lived at a distance from the meet- 
ing-house, the Sunday services were held in the forenoon 
and in the afternoon, with sufficient time between for the 
Sunday school. The New England Primer was used for 
study, and we learned, among other things,. " In Adam's 
fall we sinned all," and also " What is the chief end of 
man?" The intermission gave an opportunity for those not 
attending the Sunday school to get the current news, and the 
horse-shed class was a regular institution for some of the men. 
When the weather was favorable, there was usually a meeting 
Sunday evenings at the schoolhouses in turn " at early candle- 
lighting," when each head of a family was expected to bring 
a candle or oil lamp. There was generally a full house at 
these meetings. 

In those days the greatest economy prevailed. It was not 
the custom for the towns or individuals to run into debt. 
Very few houses were clapboarded or painted, and there were 
not a dozen covered carriages or two-seated wagons in town. 
The old-style wagons with thoroughbraces were going out, 
and wagons with steel springs were coming in. Cooking- 
stoves were used in the winter, but the big fireplaces, with the 
old-fashioned cranes and pot-hooks and trammels, were pre- 
ferred in the summer. The houses were generally of one 
story, with a big chimney in the center. There was usually a 
bed in every room, except in the kitchen, and sometimes in 
that. In the family sleeping-room there would be a trundle- 
bed for the small children. Few houses had a carpet, even in 
the best room. 

Most of the schools were in session only eight weeks in 
the summer and six or eight weeks in the winter. There was 
a different teacher nearly every term. A man generally kept 



school in the winter and a woman in the summer. The large 
boys, who went in the winter, devoted their time for the most 
part to ciphering. There was little classification, and it was 
"go as you please." 

Mr. Jeremiah Page was among my early teachers. J. Norris 
Tilton, whose untimely death was so deeply lamented, Wilson 
S. Abbott, Robert Wallace, and others followed. Nearly all 
of them have passed on. Two of my honored teachers, Mrs. 
Gideon Currier and Mrs. Samuel Gove, to whom I am much 
indebted, are still residents of the town. Master Samuel M. 
Harriman made a greater impression on me than any other of 
my Raymond teachers. A man of exceptional ability and 
strong personality, he was earnest and enthusiastic in his work, 
and had great influence over his pupils. He was a terror to evil- 
doers, and was not always patient with dull pupils, but inspired 
others with a love of study and a desire to make the most of 
themselves. In after years he always gave his old pupils a 
warm greeting, and by his critical questions showed himself 
still the schoolmaster. 

During my early school days it was expected that the boys 
who left the schoolroom when the school was in session would 
turn, face the school, and make a bow, and the girls make a 
courtesy, before passing out. Among the text-books used were 
"Emerson's First Part" in arithmetic, " Colburn's First Les- 
sons," and "Adams's Arithmetic," "The New Hampshire 
Book," "Peter Parley's," and "Smith's Geography," and 
"Smith's Grammar." 

Fifty years ago two things were lacking: first, schools 
that could be in session more than fourteen weeks a year; and 
second, readable books of interest to young people. 

At the present day it seems sometimes as if the children 
are surfeited with school privileges and overwhelmed with 
books. The boys and girls of my generation in Raymond 
were for the most part eager to attend school, and when 
there they took up study with enthusiasm and energy. At 
home, they were, as previously stated, trained to work, and 
they learned those habits of industry and application to daily 
duties that have been of immense benefit to them in subse- 



quent life. They were also expected to go to church and 
Sunday school, and they received that moral and spiritual 
instruction that has been so important and helpful in the 
development of the New England character. 

There was then no town library, no school library, and no 
Sunday school library of any value. The books in the houses 
were mostly religious. The Bible was read at home and in 
school, and its quaint old stories were much enjoyed; but 
Baxter's " Saint's Rest," Brainerd's " Memoirs," and the biog- 
raphies of Nathan W. Dickerman and Lucy Lothrop, both 
of whom were little saints and died young, did not appeal 
to the average boy. Some families took a religious paper, 
and some had the " New Hampshire Patriot,'' a paper devoted 
to the Democratic party and to the abuse of the Whigs. 
With much difificulty one borrowed Bunyan's " Pilgrim's 
Progress " and " Robinson Crusoe," and those books were 
like oases in the desert. How eagerly did the young 
people long for access to books that had practical, human 
interest, and for the opportunity to study something beyond 
arithmetic and geography. 

It may be asked what amusements did we have, and what 
holidays and social gatherings there were at that time. Christ- 
mas was not observed very much. The descendants of the 
Pilgrims and the Puritans did not honor the day till later. 
New Year's had some recognition. No work was expected on 
Fast Day or Thanksgiving. On both of these days religious 
services were held in the churches. Thanksgiving was a day 
for family reunions and good cheer. Though most of the 
turkeys were sold to increase the family income, one was kept 
for that day, and plum pudding, mince pies, pumpkin pies, 
and other old-fashioned dishes loaded down the table. The 
big brick oven was very useful at that time. The Fourth of 
July was the only regular holiday. Then we went fishing, and 
had picnics, and tried to have a good time. Foot-ball and 
base-ball were not among our athletic sports. In the winter 
coasting was a favorite amusement for the boys and girls, and 
snowballing was enjoyed by the boys. The deep snows inter- 



fered with skating. There were some games, but card-playing 
and dancing were not approved in orthodox circles. 

The singing-school was the social event of the winter for 
young people. In some respects the singing-teacher, with his 
violin, was a more important personage than the schoolmaster. 
He organized classes in every town, and the young people 
generally attended, bent quite as much on having a good time 
as to learn how to sing. Mr. Asa Poor distinguished himself 
as a teacher of singing-schools and as a violinist. 

The town meetings were events of great attraction to the 
boys. They were held in March, in the old town-meeting 
house, with the big old-fashioned square pews and the high 
pulpit. It was a day of great interest to the men, and they 
were all there. It was a gala-day for the boys, and they took 
their first lessons in town affairs, and had a good time, buy- 
ing and eating oranges, gingerbread, buns, and other good 
things. 

Among the pleasant gatherings were the huskings, when 
the young people met evenings to husk the golden corn as it 
lay on the big floors of the barns. Often there was a persistent 
effort to find a red ear, as it entitled the finder to certain privi- 
leges. The evening's work and fun generally ended with an 
old-time supper. Then the corn was usually spread out on 
the capacious floors of the attic chamber to dry, though a little 
later corn-barns were in very general use. There were apple- 
bees, when the surplus apples were pared, quartered, and 
strung, then placed in the sun to dry, so they could be pre- 
pared for future use. There were fishing parties on rainy 
days, and sometimes at dusk, evenings, when the bites of the 
fish were outdone by the bites of the mosquitoes. There were 
quiltings, when the women of neighboring households assisted 
in making comforters and patchwork quilts for home use, and 
for the young ladies who were soon to start housekeeping for 
themselves in a new home. 

I must not fail to mention the social teas of neighboring 
dames, when the hostess vied with future Delmonicos in show- 
ing how many courses she could set before her visitors. The 



sewing-circles also brought the women together to sew for the 
poor, and for missionary work, and to exchange the latest 
news. There were no clubs for men or women, and no fra- 
ternal lodges in town, but there was a good deal of social 
activity in different ways. 

The most interesting and important day qi the year, in 
some respects, was the general muster in the early autumn, 
when the militia of Chester, Raymond, and Candia met on 
some capacious field to show the assembled multitudes their 
skill in military maneuvers. There were companies of artil- 
lery, cavalry, and infantry, some in fine uniforms, and others 
in their Sunday or every-day clothes, with the flint-locks their 
grandfathers had carried at Bunker Hill and other battle-fields 
of the Revolutionary War. The company without uniforms 
was sometimes called " the slam-bangs." The company of 
rifles, in green uniforms, was my especial admiration, and the 
company of artillery under Capt. David Griffin, afterwards 
promoted to major, gave a warlike aspect to things. The 
ladies were present in carriages and on foot. There was the 
largest attendance in the afternoon, when Major-General 
Henry Tucker of this town swept down the road with his 
brilliant staff, and came on to the field to review the troops. 
There was a great mass of people of all sorts and conditions 
gathered for an outing. There were side-shows innumerable, 
hawkers and peddlers, venders of articles warranted to be 
"long enough for any man and short enough for any boy." 
The discontinuance of the musters caused great disappoint- 
ment to the boys. 

While at work the men wore homespun in winter and blue 
jean in summer with top-boots of cowhide. These, however, 
were changed on Sundays for broadcloth, tall beaver hats 
and calf-skin boots. The dress-coat, made of blue broad- 
cloth with brass buttons, was much worn on dress occasions, 
as was the high stock and dicky. At such times the ladies 
were equally stylishly dressed in their big coal-scuttle-shaped 
bonnets and fine gowns. They were careful not to expose 
their faces to the glare of the sun, but wore veils, and carried 
silk parasols. For an outside garment, the shawl was in 

12 



general use. At middle life, and afterwards, the ladies wore 
caps made of lace or other fine materials. The big sun- 
bonnet formed a picturesque part of the women's dress when 
about home. 

In the forties nearly all the eatables were the product of 
the farm. There was an abundance of rye and corn, and 
some wheat. The potato-bug was unknown, and potatoes 
were raised in large quantities. In the early fifties flour 
could be bought by the barrel at a moderate price, and hot 
biscuit became a fad, and like pie, was eaten three times a 
day. When I was a small boy, at Thanksgiving and in the 
early winter we had fresh meat, but it was very scarce at 
other seasons of the year. There was an abundance of salt 
pork and salt fish. We had such fresh fish as we caught with 
hook and line. 

According to my best information, the manner of life fifty 
or fifty-five years ago was very much like that at the beginning 
of the century. Money was frequently reckoned in shillings 
of New England currency, and the old silver fourpence and 
ninepence were still in circulation. There were plain living, 
plenty of work, and good outdoor air, and there were giants 
in physical strength. The men and women thrived on hard 
work, and did not want holidays nor outings, except a drive 
to Hampton or Salisbury beaches after the haying was done, 
when the whole family went to take a look at old ocean and 
to bathe in its briny waters. 

At the time of which I speak, a stage-coach ran from 
Portsmouth to Concord, going up one day and back the next. 
Its route, after leaving the Centre, was over Long Hill. 
Sandy Martin was the driver, and he changed horses at 
Blake's tavern, an old-fashioned building standing about 
where Mrs. Elzada Bean's residence now is. The present 
house was built by Mr. Joseph Blake fifty years ago or 
more, and was occupied by him and his family for many 
years. At that time there were not more than eight or ten 
houses within a half-mile of the Centre, and yet the popu- 
lation was only about one hundred less than it now is. There 
was no central village, but the houses were scattered over the 

13 



town. The Portsmouth and Concord railroad was completed 
to Raymond Centre, so the cars ran September g, 1850, and 
it was finished to Concord in 1852. After leaving Candia, its 
route was direct to Suncook and Concord; but in 1861, Man- 
chester had become so important and prosperous a city that 
the location of the road was changed, the track was laid from 
Candia to Manchester, and the road from Candia to Suncook 
was discontinued. 

The largest land-owner in town was Mr. Asa Currier, and 
the wealthiest citizens were undoubtedly 'Squire Joseph Blake 
and Col. Sherburne Blake. The Blake brothers kept a tavern 
in stage-coach days, as their father did before them, and for 
many years had the post-office under successive administra- 
tions. They had an extensive farm, and later became shoe 
manufacturers, doing a large business. They owned the prin- 
cipal store, which was located just west of where Mr. Charles 
Shepard's place now is. The only other store in town was 
kept by Mr. William P. Tufts. This was next above where 
the Baptist meeting-house stood, and is now occupied as a 
private residence. These stores were largely given to barter, 
or exchange of produce, and the sale of dry and West India 
goods. 

It is now one hundred and thirty-seven years since Ray- 
mond was organized as a town, and forty years longer since 
the first settlers came here. Before the building of the rail- 
road, and the more intimate connection with the outside 
world, the changes were slow, but since that time they have 
been more rapid. The eight or ten houses here at the 
Centre have increased to nearly one hundred, and the two 
stores to nearly twenty. Among the most important im- 
provements that were made in the forties and early fifties 
was the building of new roads to avoid the hills and the 
straightening of old roads. In my early boyhood, in driv- 
ing from Candia to Raymond Centre, it was necessary to 
take the old cider-ferry road, or the road past the Giles 
schoolhouse. After repeated efforts in town meetings, the 
road past Major Griffin's was built, the road from the Green, 
and the new road past Griffin's sawmill, to connect with 

14 



the Deerfield road, near the residence of the late Joseph 
Dudley, where the Healeys now live, so as to avoid Long 
Hill. The expense of lawsuits in fighting the roads, and 
the cost of finally making them, proved a heavy burden 
to the town; but the public was much benefited by the 
improvements. 

Strange to say, the devastating fire of nine years ago seems 
to have been a blessing in disguise, for new and greatly im- 
proved church edifices, a new and more commodious rail- 
road station, and new, more convenient, and more attractive 
stores have sprung up phoenix-like from the flames. The 
old has passed away, and Raymond Centre has taken her 
place, with a new equipment, and with nearly all the mod- 
ern improvements. 

I rejoice to see the prosperity that has come to the old 
town. And yet, as I look at these changes, a feeling of sad- 
ness comes over me. I do not feel at home here. I do 
not feel at home in this church, beautiful as it is. It is 
only as I get away from the Centre that things begin to 
look familiar. But when I visit the old homes I look in 
vain for the former occupants. Nearly all of the gener- 
ation which was carrying the burdens and assuming the 
responsibilities of life when I was a boy have passed away. 
The fields they cultivated and improved, the roads they built, 
many of the trees they planted, are still there. The stone 
walls remain as monuments to their industry. A few of the 
picturesque old well -sweeps, with the old oaken buckets, 
still stand guard over the ancient wells. 

In a few cases the farms are deserted, the fields have be- 
come pastures, and the pastures woodlands. I see, however, 
the same varied and beautiful landscape. The flowing rivers 
and the quiet, familiar ponds are in the same locations, 
fringed with the green meadows as of old. Pawtuckaway 
still crowns the landscape. I see evidences of thrift and 
enterprise everywhere. A new generation is in charge. 
The lands are better cultivated, there is greater variety 
of fruit, large and small, the houses are more attractive, 
the homes more beautiful, the barns are better adapted 

15 



to their purposes, the highways are greatly improved, and 
the general appearance of things made more attractive. 
Manufacturing has come in to give a greater variety of occu- 
pations, and to promote the general prosperity in many ways. 
The schools have longer terms, are better graded, and the 
teachers are more permanent. A free public library has been 
started, and receives the support of the town. But the fathers 
and mothers of my boyhood are gone. Though my gener- 
ation is at the front, it appears in broken ranks. Some 
have gone to other towns and cities, and have become 
identified with other interests. Some who remained in the 
old homes have done their work, and have gone over to 
the majority. Many fell in the Civil War, in that terrible 
struggle to save the Union. Some, who did not shoulder 
a musket or carry a knapsack, lost their lives in the same 
cause. We shall never forget their patriotism and their heroic 
deeds. We will ever honor their memory, and hold the pre- 
cious lives of all the departed in everlasting remembrance. 

Mr. President, ladies, and gentlemen, let us again pledge 
our loyalty to this dear old town. May it ever stand for 
good morals, temperance, education, good citizenship, and 
a noble, self-sacrificing public spirit. May we ever be true 
to its best traditions, and imitate the high ideals, the sturdy 
honesty, and devotion to duty shown by the fathers and 
mothers who have made the town what it is. 



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